


I Write The Songs

by LicieOIC



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:19:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4864562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LicieOIC/pseuds/LicieOIC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bloke had been singing and playing the accordion outside Rose's window for five whole minutes. Time to let him know that he's got the wrong window and her neighbor is out of town for the winter holiday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Write The Songs

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: 
> 
> From this post - http://licieoic.tumblr.com/post/129310711979/some-more-aus 
> 
> “okay buddy you’ve been serenading the wrong window for about five minutes now, time to let you know my neighbor is out of town” au
> 
> There is some talk of mature circumstances, but nothing explicit is described.

 

It was past ten when the cheery sound of an accordion broke through Rose’s brain haze of homework concentration. Blinking, she looked up and confirmed it was, indeed, ten minutes past ten, and no, she wasn’t imagining the sound of an accordion as some sort of mental escape from her art history reading. Most people had left for the winter holidays, but she had elected to stay and work on her thesis, so the noise was quite a surprise, breaking through the over-quiet dorm.

It seemed to be coming from outside. Moving closer to her window confirmed it, and now she could hear a voice, a man’s voice, lifted in song to the accompaniment. But it wasn’t a song she’d ever heard before.

“Ohhh, Rein _ette,”_ the man sang and Rose rolled her eyes at the mention of the girl who lived in the dorm room next to hers. The girl who always hogged the laundry room and dirtied the joint kitchen without ever cleaning up after herself. “You’re the nicest girl I’ve ever _met!_ And though you might think this is strange, I’ll _bet…_ You’ll find me _charming_ if my rhyming isn’t too _alarming,_ won’t you--” He broke off here, but gamely continued after the pause, “Fly away with me on a _jet?”_ The last bit sounded more like a question and he stopped playing once more. As Rose pulled up the window she could hear him saying, “That’s rubbish, I don’t have a jet, stupid, stupid…”

Rose leaned out and looked down at the would-be Romeo, ready to set him straight. She saw a tall, skinny bloke, bundled up in a long tan trench coat, a striped scarf around his neck, but no hat on his head, revealing some really great sticky-uppy hair that looked gilded in the light of the nearby streetlamp. His breath came out in white puffs and his pink ears could have been a sign of his embarrassment over the stunt, but more likely was another sign of the cold. A blue accordion was slung around his neck. A brilliant smile lit up his face when Rose leaned out of the window, but the sunny expression quickly disappeared when he realized she wasn’t the blonde he was looking for.

“I hate to tell you this, mate,” she said, trying to sound more apologetic than annoyed, “but you’ve got the wrong window.” She angled her thumb at the window next to hers. “Not that it makes a lot of difference, but I feel I should say that Reinette left for the winter break yesterday. Said she and her boyfriend were going skiing in France.”

His face fell even further, if possible. Rose found herself feeling quite sorry for him, he probably hadn’t even known about Reinette’s boyfriend, if he had no idea about her holiday plans, and now he’d put himself out there for the wrong girl, someone he didn’t even know. The poor bloke. She held back a cringe of secondhand embarrassment.

Shivering, she rubbed one arm to generate some warmth. “Hey, you’ve got to be freezing,” she said, making the bloke’s head snap up to look at her again. Feeling sympathetic and generous, she offered, “How about a cuppa tea?”

A long white cloud of breath streamed out of his mouth as he stared at her, then at Reinette’s window, then he shrugged. “Yeah, alright. Thanks.”

“Room 2D,” she said. “I’ll buzz you in.”

He was more handsome up close, with his tousled chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. When he disentangled himself from the scarf and shucked his coat and set down the bulky accordion, she saw that, yes, he was skinny, but he appeared quite fit in his tight brown suit with little blue pinstripes. He’d apparently wanted to make a good impression on Reinette. Well, Rose was appreciative of the view in her stead. She’d have to be dead not to notice the incredible arse he had as he moved past her into her dorm room.

She was wearing a pink hoodie over her pajamas, but she tried not to think about her casual appearance. She was just trying to soothe the man’s damaged ego, it wasn’t important what she looked like. Even if her pajama bottoms were covered in cups of coffee with cursive writing that said ‘I don’t do mornings.’

“I’m Rose, by the way,” she said as she moved to the electric kettle. “Make yourself at home.”

“I’m John. Smith.” He sat down at the desk chair she’d vacated. “Thanks for inviting me up. It really is bloody cold out.”

One corner of her mouth turned up as she settled the kettle in its cradle and pressed the button. “How’s your throat?”

He cleared it before speaking, as if to assess any damage. “A tad strained, if I’m being honest.”

“Then tea is just the thing.” She got out the tea tin, then moved to her bed and sat down, since there was no other place to sit while they waited for the water to boil. “So… how do you know Reinette?”

He looked down at the hardwood flooring and fidgeted with his fingers. “I haven’t known her long… Actually, I’m not even sure she knows my name. We’ve spoken a few times in passing and we’re in the same natural science class.” He nodded at the accordion. “This was my hare-brained idea to get her attention. A grand gesture, yeah?” His shoulders slumped. “I should have known I’d fail spectacularly. Real life is _not_ a rom-com.”

She giggled a bit, biting her thumbnail. “No, it usually isn’t.”

“Thank you for stopping me. I could have been out there for an hour, singing away.”

“Yes, that would definitely have been more embarrassing.”

“I was thinking more of the cold. I could have gotten sick.” He placed a hand to his chest, only slightly over-playing it, “I might owe you my life.”

She laughed again. “I don’t know about that.” He seemed to have a flair for the dramatic, but it was actually kind of endearing to her. He still seemed pretty down about the situation, so she changed the subject, “And how long have you been writing songs?”

He scoffed. “Writing songs? I just make things up. I thought that would be obvious by how horrid I was.”

“Oh, you weren’t _horrid,”_ she said, touching her tongue to her teeth. “I was giving you an opening to impress me. You should have said that you’re an undiscovered musical genius!”

A twinkle entered his cinnamon eyes, and it felt like a little victory. “Because everyone’s always on the look-out for the world’s next great accordion player?”

“Well, you have to admit, they _are_ pretty rare.” The kettle dinged and she got up to fix them two cups. “Who plays the accordion anymore?”

“To be honest, I play the piano, the accordion is just the portable version of it. Two sugars, please.”

She fixed his cup and handed it to him, then added milk to hers from her tiny fridge. A deeply satisfying sigh left him after his first sip and she looked to see him cradling the mug with both hands, holding it close to his face as he inhaled the warm vapor. She smiled and settled down with her own cup.

“Better?” she asked.

“Much.”

“My mum always said there’s nothing a good cuppa won’t fix.”

“I can see many holes in that logic, but I’m too content to point them out.” He took another sip of tea, followed by another sigh. “This is just what I needed. Thank you, Rose. Next time I get a brilliant idea, I’ll have a cup of tea so I can realize how ridiculous it is.”

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself,” she said. “If it were me, I’d think it was sweet. I’ve never had anyone serenade me, let alone write me a song. It would have made you stand out.”

He looked up, hopefully. “Do you think I should try it again, after holidays?”

She scrunched her nose. “Well, since she’s currently got a bloke, I don’t think it would go over well. Besides, she doesn’t strike me as the type to be impressed by a window-side serenade.”

“Really?” He cocked his head to the side, seeming intrigued by this. “How _does_ she strike you? I mean, you get to see the _real_ her, living in such close proximity. What’s the real Reinette like?”

Twisting her mouth to one side, she considered her answer. Finally, she settled on, “High maintenance.”

His eyebrows lifted high. “Oh?”

She waved one hand. “I don’t like to speak ill of others. ‘If you can’t say something nice…’”

But he wouldn’t let the subject drop. “Just give me one for instance,” he said, holding up an index finger.

“Well…” Rose ran a fingertip around the edge of her mug as she thought about what she knew of Reinette. “When any of us are in the shared kitchen with her, she always lectures us on how unhealthy our food is. The things she’s said about fish and chips… it’s sacrilegious. Or maybe that’s just offensive to me because I love chips.”

He smiled, pressing his lips together. “Good to know. I’m fond of chips myself, though I wouldn’t really call being health-conscious ‘high maintenance.’”

“Okay, okay, something more on-point, then,” she conceded, thinking of another instance. “Well, I’ve noticed that she and her bloke never have a night in. They always go out. Maybe it’s a privacy thing, but…” She shrugged. “Personally, I find that a bit high maintenance. I think it can be nice just to have a quiet evening in. Snuggling up on the sofa, or whatever, and watching a film…”

He nodded. “Yeah.” She couldn’t tell if he was agreeing with her about staying in or the high maintenance part.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, remembering something else. She went to her dresser and rummaged in the top drawer for a moment, then pulled out a slender box. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “It was a present he gave her. She gave it to me because she didn’t like it.”

He set down his mug on her desk and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful gold bracelet set with green peridot gems. “Wow,” he said, his brows lifting again. “What didn’t she like about it?”

Rose gave a little snort. “Apparently, she doesn’t wear ‘swamp-marsh green’ and she thinks gold makes her look cheap. The argument they had over it was pretty heated, from what I heard through my wall.” She giggled. “Speaking of things heard through my wall…”

“Oh, dear,” he said, his eyes going comically wide as he set the bracelet aside and picked his mug back up.

“Don’t worry, no gory details, but she does have a penchant for coming up with cute little nicknames for his… well, bits.”

“Cute nicknames?” he repeated as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

She tapped her chin with one finger. “I believe on one particular night, she asked if she could ‘pet the baby bunny.’”

He spat his tea, spraying it down his jacket and across her floor. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” he said, putting down his mug and looking around helplessly for something to clean up with.

Rose just laughed and grabbed a towel, which she tossed at him, then grabbed another to throw on the floor. “I guess that’s my fault,” she said, moving the towel around with her foot to clean up the splattered tea. “Should have waited til you weren’t drinking.”

He dabbed at his jacket. “S’alright, I just wasn’t expecting… well, _that._ A baby bunny? Really?”

“Really.” Picking up the towel, she threw it in the direction of her wash basket. “And maybe I’m wrong about her, this is just all my speculation. I just think you’d fare better with someone who’ll appreciate your grand gestures and your sense of humor.”

He grinned. “You think I’m funny?”

“Well, yeah! Have you not noticed how much I’ve been laughing? And not just because of the spit-take.” She smiled as he pulled at his ear and rubbed the back of his neck. “You just seem like a really nice bloke, too nice to be hung up over someone like her.”

He looked down at his lap, fidgeting with the towel. “Well, thanks,” he said, his cheeks flushing an attractive pink. A smattering of freckles were thrown into relief against the blush on his face, how had she not noticed them?

“I mean it,” she said, holding out her hand for the towel, then tossing it after the other one once he’d given it over. “Reinette is… nice enough, I suppose, but she’s not worth getting depressed over. Definitely not serenade-worthy,” she added, with a touch of cheek. “I have a feeling you’ll meet someone even better soon enough.”

He looked up at her through ridiculously long lashes, a shy little smile teasing his lips. “Maybe I already have,” he said, softly.

Rose’s heartbeat doubled its pace and she found herself returning his smile.

\---

They spent every day of the winter holiday together and Rose even found herself inviting him home for Christmas dinner once she’d found out he hadn’t any family close by. Rose’s mother, Jackie, was of course suspicious of her daughter bringing a bloke home, claiming they were just friends, but in the spirit of Christmas, she let it go. John did his best to be charming and dutifully complimented the food, he’d even brought his accordion to play carols on. He and Rose popped Christmas crackers and wore silly paper crowns all night, getting gloriously drunk on egg nog and mulled cider.

By the time they were walking to the tube to go back to uni, a light snow had begun to fall. He bumped his shoulder into hers, their hands brushing. Without really thinking about it, Rose twined their fingers and he smiled down at her.

“Thanks for letting me come along,” he said. “I had a really great time.”

“Me too,” she said, leaning against his arm to soak up some of his warmth. “These past two weeks have been amazing. Tonight was just… the icing on the cake.” She scrunched her nose. “Mm, that doesn’t work. What about…”

“The whipped cream on the pumpkin pie?” he suggested.

She giggled. “Yes! That! You always come up with the best things off the top of your head. Though I don’t think I’ve ever heard Christmas carols quite like yours. Do you always just make stuff up when you don’t know the words?”

“If you do it convincingly enough, most people don’t even notice.” He looked at her more closely, furrowing his brow slightly. “You must not be as drunk as I thought you were,” he said, conspiratorially.

“Well, the cold is helping to sober me up, but I’ve still got a pleasant buzz going.” She grinned up at him. “Make up another.”

“Another what?”

“Song. I love your songs.”

“Now I _know_ you’re drunk.”

She swatted his arm. “Come on, I’m not even slurring. Your songs are what brought us together.” Her cheeks were already flushed from the cold, but they deepened a shade darker. “Well, I mean… Not _together…”_

He looked at her for a moment, his lips slightly parted as if he was trying to decide something. Then he smiled and tightened his grip on her hand, leading her over to a cement staircase leading up to a two-story flat. “Here, stand up on this, I need a little inspiration.”

Giggling again, Rose stood on the second step, making her just a little taller than John. He stepped back and looked at her, his breath making white puffs in the air, then nodded.

“Perfect.” He unlocked the accordion and wiggled his fingers over the keys as he thoughtfully looked up at the snow falling from the sky. “Now, let me see…” He played a couple of notes. “Ro-oose,” he sang. “She has such a… cute little _nose._ She makes me happy all the way down to my _tooooes!”_ He played a long exaggerated note to go along with his over the top performance.

She burst out laughing, bending in half as she clutched her stomach. John smirked.

“Oh, you think this is funny, do you? This is hard work!” He waited until her mirth had passed for the most part, then played another set of notes. “Ro-oose,” he sang again. “I wonder if she even _knows…_ how much I’d like to kiss her… underneath her _nose…_ cuz that’s where her mouth _goes?”_ He looked up hopefully, his eyes large and guileless.

Her mouth had dropped open a little at his musical admission, but all she felt was a delighted surprise. Reaching out with her gloved hands, she grabbed him by his pink ears and pulled him closer, leaning over the bulky accordion to drop a soft kiss on his lips. A spark sizzled, zapping a fiery path straight through her. A long exhale left him when they parted, creating a swirling white cloud that drifted between the two of them, and he stared at her as if she hung the moon. She wondered if he’d felt the spark, too.

“Brilliant,” he breathed, making her smile. Clearing his throat, he attempted to finish the impromptu song. “Ro-oose,” he sang along with his accordion, but he trailed off, blinking his eyes as he searched for another rhyme. He shook his head as if to clear it and valiantly went on, “If only your naaaame were… Sue?”

She snorted. “Sue?”

He broke and a gaffaw escaped him as he continued, “Cuz _‘Sue’_ rhymes with… ‘skies of _blue’_... and ‘morning _dew’_... and I… love…” He lapsed into silence, lifting his eyes from the accordion keys, the chocolate depths mingling hope as well as nervousness. “You… were… in my dreams,” he sang, looking at her as if she was the only woman in the world. He locked the accordion, but kept singing, not bothering to find awkward rhymes, just laying his heart before her, “Always in my dreams. That was long before I ever saw you standing there.”

Lifting the accordion strap over his head, he set the instrument down on the stair and reached for her hands. She placed both of hers in his and he pulled her down from the steps, sweeping her around in a slow dance. “Who needs to dream when there is you?” he sang, smiling. “Who needs a heaven to look forward to? For my whole life through, who needs to dream? You’re my dream come true.”

This time when she pulled John down for a kiss, it didn’t stay brief and chaste like the first one. His lips were so soft and his tongue was so hot, contrasting sharply with the cold tip of his nose pressed against her cheek. She lost herself in that kiss, letting go of all sense of time. She had no idea how long they stood on that snowy sidewalk, tingling awareness buzzing just underneath the surface of her skin.

John rested his forehead against hers when their lips finally parted. His eyes stayed closed for a long time as his breathing slowly settled. Rose leaned against him, her arms around his neck, feeling weak in the knees, her heart racing. A little giggle escaped her and he opened his eyes.

“What?”

She leaned back in his arms to look at him with a smile. “A slow dance in the snow, my very own serenade, a brilliant snog with flurries of snowflakes all around us.” She tucked her tongue between her teeth. “Who says real life isn’t a rom-com?”

They laughed.

“I guess, with you, it could be,” he said, grinning. Taking her hand, he went back to the stairs to reclaim his accordion. “One question, though.”

“Yeah?”

He slung the strap around his neck and waggled his eyebrows. “Is this rom-com rated G?”

Another blush warmed her face and she bit her lower lip, looking up at him suggestively. “Why don’t we go back to yours and see if we can’t make it at least PG-13.”

“Oooh! Naughty minx!”

With another little kiss, they headed off, swinging their hands between them, and John singing cheerfully, “I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my _toes,_ love is all around us… isn’t that right, _Rose?”_

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a song from Barry Manilow’s Copacabana, lyrics used were adapted from “Lola” and “Who Needs To Dream,” title was taken from another Manilow song, "I Write The Songs (That Make The Whole World Cry)"


End file.
